


we are the reckless (we are the wild youth)

by queenscourt (cafeanna)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Actual Lancelot, Actual Lantor, Allura Doubts Herself Too, Altean lance, Betrayal, Lance and Allura are siblings, Langst, M/M, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Time Skips, i will add as i go - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11843436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafeanna/pseuds/queenscourt
Summary: “I thought you two weren’t supposed to be seen together until the announcement.” Allura thought aloud, but her comment went vastly unheard when her twin crossed the room to place a kiss on his fiancé’s cheek, fingers tangling for a moment in his ash grey hair.Lotor hummed. “We aren’t, but I think your father knows it’s impossible to keep us apart.”.Or, an au where Allura and Lance are royal twins that have never been apart. When Lance makes the decision to marry the Galran prince, he sets off a chain-reaction that tests their relationship. Romance, betrayal, and ten thousand years of war, life is about to get interesting.





	1. the kings and queens of promise

**Author's Note:**

> Holy hell I'm doing this. Okay, so I really wanted to write a Lotor/Lance fic, and I wanted angst and actual Lotor and Lance. So this is what I'm doing, a sleeping beauty inspired fic of hellfire and spaceships! I am so excited. Enjoy!

**Allura**

 

Allura closed her eyes and imagined walking down the long corridor alone, she could hear the hush over the crowd before anything else; the distant eerie silence that happened when someone whom you have previously been talking about has entered the room. She imagined the lights—could see them—the rosy golds and cool silvers, the lights glittering off the guests in their finery. She could smell the food, the roast dishes and bubbling drinks.

It would be a night of ceremony, merriment, and family.

She felt his presences before his hand took her own, pulling Allura out of her reverie.

“You nervous?” Lance whispered.

Allura shot him a side-long glance. He was smiling, all his teeth on display and his ocean blue eyes twinkling in the low lights of the corridor. "You shouldn't be. Nervous, I mean. You look lovely. And I know you can totally do this." 

She laid her hand over his, stepping back a little to get a better look at him. Her twin seemed to be glowing in her presence. Although it was protocol to dress up a little more for formal occasions such as these, Lance looked as though he were about to be crown heir apparent himself.

Her eyes dragged over the beaded details of his waistcoat, the silver inlays in his cape, and then the jewels in his ears; all were gifts from his new fiancé and all were in the colors of his adopted empire. She forced a steady smile. “You look handsome.” She remarked. “You planning on having your ceremony tonight?”

Lance’s cheeks glowed. “Too much?” He absently fingered a set of silver rings marking up the length of his ear. Allura watched her twin struggle. “I mean, I understand that you have to dress down to show modesty and humility, so should I have—”

“No, you look wonderful.”

She assured and Lance relaxed.

“That’s what I said.” Lotor said from the shadows, coming into view of the circle of light. Lance beamed.

“I thought you two weren’t supposed to be seen together until the announcement.” Allura thought aloud, but her comment went vastly unheard when her twin crossed the room to place a kiss on his fiancé’s cheek, fingers tangling for a moment in his ash grey hair.

Lotor hummed. “We aren’t, but I think your father knows it’s impossible to keep us apart.” He said this with a smile that mirrored itself on Lance’s face and for a tick, Allura could not place a time in her life where she had ever seen Lance smile so much in one conversation.

The Galran prince just made him that happy, that much was obvious to everyone who saw them together.

“Well, it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know.” Allura said quietly, noting that her brother and brother-in-law-to-be had had time to coordinate outfits, even if they had no time to tell her. “We should walk out together, as one. United for all to see.”

The couple looked stunned, but Lance was the one to speak. “’Llura, are you sure? Tonight is your night.” He protested, but Allura was already shaking her head. She reached out, taking her brother’s hand and then extended her free one to Lotor. The Galra prince gazed at her, skeptically.

“When I am Queen and you are King, we will all work together as leaders of our kingdoms. It would only make sense that we show our peace is solidified through the shifting of power and marriage.” She presented her hand again, and this time Lotor took it, linking his other with Lance.

"The Galra will always value the Alteans diplomacy."

Before Allura could comment, there was the sound of a door slamming behind them and the trio turned to find Coran peaking in from a service entrance, looking more frazzled than usual. “Princess are you ready to—Prince Lotor?” The orange-haired man squawked. “Wha-what are you doing here? I mean. Welcome, but—Prince Lance, did you not hear what your father said!?”

Lance snorted indignantly and moved closer to Lotor, more than was suitable in a public setting, or in front of a second-father, no less. "Hello Coran, just thought I would stop by." Lotor smiled smirked, but hid it with his palm. He was more reserved in public than Lance was, less accustomed to public displays, but Allura didn’t see a problem with that; so long as he took care of Lance, they won’t have any problems.

“They’re useless Coran, the both of them.” Allura gave an exaggerated sigh as she flicked her hair behind her shoulder, hitting Lance in the nose. She smiled when she heard her brother's protest. "I am a prince of Altea! You cannot treat me this way!" Lance gasped through his fingers. She felt a pang in her chest at his words. They wouldn’t be together like this much longer, after the wedding ceremony, Lance would be expected to move to Daibazaal with Lotor; one day take the throne as king consort and guide Lotor in ruling the vast Galran Empire. Her little brother.

It was all happening so fast and it was only getting quicker.

Allura exhaled again, letting her shoulders drop and lifting her chin so that her coronet, a simple gold band she had worn since childhood, was on full display. Tonight it would be traded for a new one, with jewels, and although her heart fluttered with excitement, she couldn’t help the terrible feeling that weighted in her chest.

As soon as her mother gifted her with the crown of the heir apparent, everything would be different.

Lance and Lotor linked arms behind her as Coran ran out to change the announcement just as the music started up. “Here we go,” Lance muttered his voice a pleasant, reassuring hum in Lotor’s ear. Allura bit her lip.

The double doors opened and just like Allura imagined there was silence as they made their way down the corridor. She could feel the lights washing over her, smell the food of the feast, hear the soft murmur of voices under the trumpets of the music and—

Two arms linked themselves with hers and Allura had to check her stride a moment, gaping as Lance and Lotor stood on either side of her, not together.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, but her brother kept going, eyes fixated on the golden light ahead of them. "Lance?" 

“We’re doing this together Allura. If you insist, then I insist.” Lance grinned cheekily.

Allura shot a glance at Lotor, a pleading ‘control your husband, please’ glance that she had grown fond of sharing, but Lotor’s eyes were fixed in a thousand mile stare. Every inch of him reading regal and in control, Allura wished she could relate. “Let him have this,” he whispered back, not looking at her. “He misses you so much already.”

Allura felt a knot forming in her stomach, but it settled once she felt Lance squeeze her hand again. _My brother, my twin_. She looked at him just as the applause of the crowd washed over them, his brilliant smile, his blue eyes.

She remembered the stories they had heard as children that Lance had almost not made it through the birth. How her parents wept and Allura herself cried out for her womb-mate, the only living creature she had come into this world with. Newborn and bloody, she couldn't imagine life without him, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him now.

“Allura,” Lance murmured, eyes pinching in worry. “What’s wrong?”

She blinked away the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks and smiled the first real smile in a long time. “I’m just happy you’re here with me today, is all.”

“Awe, sis.” Lance batted his eyelashes at her and grinned cheekily.

"I will always be there for you."

Everything would be alright.


	2. the birth and death of the day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is present. Next chap will be past. So this is a few days after Allura wakes.

**Allura**

That morning, Allura awoke to the sounds of the paladins arguing in the hallway outside her bedroom. Or, at least, she thought it was morning. Coran and her had been up all night working to reset the castle’s defenses, but before she had fallen into bed, she had made sure that the curtains of her room were drawn to block out the light.

She sat up, taming her long hair back with a ribbon as she listened to snippets of their conversation.

“—should leave the princess alone, she’s been up all night and it wouldn’t be fair to disturb her.” That was Shiro, the leader of the group, and the one who caught her when she came tumbling out of the healing pod three days ago.

“She’s been asleep for ten thousand years!” That was Pidge. Allura couldn’t help but wince at the green paladins words. She knew full well that she had been asleep for a long time, but sleeping in a healing pod was not the same as sleeping in her bed. Her head still felt cloudy and unfocused with ten thousand years of dreams to process.

Then, of course, the realization that everyone she knew was dead.

She listened to Shiro and the others chasten the green paladin for the remark, but then they lowered their voices again, cutting her out of their argument.

 _They must really want to talk to me_. She threw back her duvet, uncovering four sleeping bodies that had cuddling up beside her. One by one, all of them awoke and began voice their complaints, some of them rolling over to luxuriate in the warmth of the bed before it faded.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

She couldn’t seem to make anyone happy these days.

With Lance it had always been easy, he was a champion of blossoming smiles and teasing laughter out of people. He was the amiable one, the fool, the tease, he knew how to talk to people.

 _Lance._ She touched the smooth blue dewdrop that hung on a chain around her neck, Lance’s gift to her after her coronation as heir apparent. He said it was made by his mother-in-law’s fellow alchemist from pure quintessence, a link in their life forces.

“You’ll always know I’m alright when you wear this,” Lance had said when her locked the clasp around her neck. “And,” he dipped his thumb and forefinger into the neck of his shirt, pulling up a bobbing blue stone, this one covered with a violet hue. “I have one just like it.”

She had never taken it off since then, for neither baths nor sleep. And she certainly did not take it off that day on the control room with her father, when she felt the stone pulsate like never before—trembling like a wounded animal.

A knock interrupted her thoughts and Allura quickly tucked the necklace back into her nightdress and pulled on her robe. “Just a tick.” She called.

When she answered the door only Coran was waiting for her on the other side, looking as though he had been up for hours already. “Princess, I have taken the liberty of preparing a meal for the paladins and have ordered them to familiarize themselves with the kitchen. On another note, I have placed the last generator to get this castle up and running again, we should be able to test our defenses later.”

How long had she been sleeping?

“Thank you, Coran.”

Coran nodded, but then his uniformed expression shifted, his eyes narrowing in worry. “Are you alright, princess?”

“Yes, Coran, I’ve just,” she paused and realized that her hand was lying over her necklace, pressing the stone against her skin. Coran nodded slower this time, the lines around his eyes furrowing.

Allura felt her heart swell once more, but beat down the feeling with all she had. She could not cry now. Now was not the time. She knew her father had perished with her mother and cousins and her people, but she could not give up hope. Not yet. If there was a chance that her theory could be true then she would go to the ends of the universe, clinging to hope by the tips of her fingers.

She felt the necklace pulse again, a gentle hum similar to a heartbeat. “Coran,” she said. “Could you run a diagnosis for me?”

“Of course,” Coran answered. “On?”

Allura lifted the necklace out of her collar again, cradling the blue stone in her palm. “Lance gave this to me, I thought maybe,” She trailed off, catching Coran’s near pitying look. “I need you to check for me.”

Coran’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, and then shut. She watched his thoughts flicker in his eyes, weighing pros and cons against indulging in her fantasy. But Allura couldn’t help it; she felt it in her gut. She would know if Lance was dead. Of that, she was sure.

Wordlessly, Coran held out his palm and Allura unclasped the necklace, for the first time in nearly ten thousand years, and laid it in his palm.

She felt naked without it.

.  
.

An hour later, Allura was dressed and standing in the control room feeling as haggard as before. But there was work to be done, a particle barrier to be tested and paladins to train. She had no time for lazy afternoons.

As planned, Pidge and Keith had been able to locate and were chosen by their respective lions, but Shiro could not access the Black Lion until all the lions were present.

“You said there were five lions,” Hunk said tentatively, seeming to catch on to her quickly worsening mood. “Where’s the fifth?”

Allura bit down on the tip of her tongue, pushing aside the heavy feeling in her chest. Without looking, she reached out and the computer system of the brig answered her call, a map of the known universe, updated and rescanned after ten thousand years appeared. By heart, Allura typed in the coordinates and lowered the image of the ice planet where Blue rested.

“The Blue Lion,” she began, “is the friendliest of the lions, but not the easiest. She demands loyalty of her paladin and commands well under pressure; she a bit larger than Green or Red because she makes up the leg of Voltron, but she makes up for it in armor.” She caught Coran’s eye over Hunk’s shoulder and held out her palm, watching the Blue Lion leap into her palm, humming like the jewel of her necklace.

“I suppose I will pilot the Blue Lion.”

Allura wondered how to best go about commanding the situation. They would need a pod and thermal gear, and perhaps an underwater apparatuses of some sort. There was no telling where Blue might be, either incased in ice or below the surface level. Ancients, the planet originally had inhabited by merpeople, but according to reports they haven't been seen in years.

“We’ll go with you.” Shiro said, eyes filling with the same determination they did the day she awoke. She felt a rush of guilt looking into his eyes, in fact, all the paladins. They had already dealt with the Galra on a personal level, some more than others, but they came from a world that had not yet known the influence of the Galra Empire. And yet, here they were, rising to the occasion to defend the known universe from total dictatorship.

For freedom, to make real her parents' dream, the dream of Voltron.

She forced a tentative smile. "Let's get started then."

.  
.

  
**Lotor**

Lotor woke with a jolt, air expanding into his lungs with a near fiery burn on the exhale. Feeble, warmth flooded through him, invading the cold contours of his body and chasing the chill of the cyropod up his spine. For a handful of moments, his mind was a jumble of thoughts—of his parents, of war, of fighting, and Lance.

 _Lance_. His eyes drooped heavily.

Suddenly, he was falling forward, legs buckling under his own weight and he was caught by two pairs of incredibly thin arms, needle-point fingers dipping against his skin. He felt himself being carried, but only managed to catch snatches of the room, drifting between awake and asleep.

He would vomit if his stomach had anything in it.

The last meal he could remember had been a quick breakfast with his husband, tea and preserves, nothing too extravagant, but his mind latches on to that moment; the whorls of stars in the ship’s bay windows and the soft white of Lance’s hair in the lights. He could taste the edge of a berry on the corner of Lance’s mouth from his last worried kiss.

_Lance._

He hoisted onto a flat gurney, his arms and legs strapped down, but before they could lock in his head, Lotor caught sight of another cyro-pod. Its glass is fogged, and his sight even worse, but he could just make out the smudge of a face.

Somehow, he knew it was Lance.

 _Lance, Lance_ . . . Lotor reached out, but it was useless. He’s too weak.

A sheet fell over his body and Lotor was cloaked in darkness once again, being taken farther and farther from Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go. This story will be working between past and present, and next chapter we get more backstory, whoo!


	3. celebration of moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> REWIND: A party. A moonlit walk. An anxiety attack.

**Lotor**

“Do you think this is a bit,” Lotor swirled the contents of his glass, eyes tracking the line of bubbles clinging to the rim of the delicate crystal. “ _Much_?”

The great hall was adorned with golds and pale blues, the royal family’s colors. Even the guests seemed to comply with the requested color scheme, making the royal couple in the corner of the feast table, stick out like a sore thumb of purple and silver.

“I grew up with this, you tell me.” Lance said, popping a candied cherry in his mouth. He made a noise that Lotor would have preferred not to hear in public. “Mother loves to plan.” Lotor sipped his glass of nunvil quietly.

Queen Fala had taken them aside after the official ceremony to scold them, and after Lance had apologized, the matriarch of Altea had glared at them before making an exasperated noise. She apparently had expected them to do something like this and she planned the seating arrangement accordingly. Then she had pinched Lotor’s cheeks and told him how happy she was to see her future son-in-law.

Lance’s father had been easier to cajole, Lotor simply presented King Alfor with a copy of his mother’s latest alchemy notes had been enough to derail whatever argument he had been trying to make. The Altean prince had been quiet pleased at that.

“You know,” Lance said, catching his attention. He was smiling coyly, fingers twisting the new jewels Lotor had given him when he arrived not five varga ago. “I never repaid you for these.”

They were Drusilan crystals, extremely rare and even harder to find in Lance’s preferred colors. They shimmered and chimed with each turn of Lance’s head, a dazzling display.

“Think nothing of it,” Lotor said absently, eyeing the sky-dancers that floated above the party by cords of ribbon. This party was truly the pinnacle of Altean culture, lavish and ornate, something he was sure that the Galran officials often scoffed about.

He was about to comment on the sky-dancers’ outfits when Lance’s hand touched his knee under the table, causing him to almost drop his drink. “What are you doing?”

“Putting my hand on your thigh.” Lance said, smiling to a passing noble with a little finger-wave. Lotor felt heat crawling up the back of his neck. “I was thinking about our honeymoon, and what I have planned for it. Would you be interested in helping me decide? I’m a little caught in between with a few of them.”

Lotor smirked. “Are you trying to seduce me, princeling?”

“Depends if you’re interested, beautiful.” Lance leaned forward, eyes becoming hooded. Lotor could feel Lance’s fingers under the table flexing against his thigh.

“I’m betrothed.” Lotor scoffed, playing along. “And I am actually quite fond of my partner.” Lotor laid his hands over his, bringing Lance’s teasing to a stop.

“By the Ancients, I love you.” The sultry smile became impish as Lance withdrew his hand. Lotor took a moment to survey the room, wondering if anyone had seen. “But, seriously, thank you. Not just for the earrings, but for being here tonight.”

It made Lotor feel a little guilty knowing that Lance often refrained from public displays of affection for his own comfort, but at the same time it meant that Lance cared enough to acknowledge his boundaries. “Honestly, I would be sitting here all by myself all night if you weren’t here.”

“That’s not true,” He said. “You would be dancing if I wasn’t here.”

“True,” Lance mused. “And I can still dance, but it’ll have to be with Matteo.” Lance indicated a tall, green-haired Altean at the corner of the dancefloor. The young lieutenant was one of the twin’s oldest friends, among other things, and Lance often said that Matteo had no interest in him, but Lotor always suspected otherwise.

“If you want to dance with Matteo, then I have no problem with it.” The Galra prince muttered darkly and Lance snickered again. “Really. Go right ahead.”

“If you won’t dance, then I won’t dance.” Lance said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m perfectly content to talk to you for the rest of the night.”

Lance had never looked more beautiful than in that moment, the gold lights haloing his white hair, his deep indigo eyes. When the flower petals began to fall from the ceiling, Lotor thought, for a tick, that _maybe_ Queen Fala had spiked the nunvil.

“What is happening?” he asked as Lance looked up, pure delight etching across his features.

“Well, juniberry blossoms are out of season, so mother had to work around it.” Lance shrugged. “What can I say? She loves a well-timed, ornate party. You should see what she has planned for our wedding.”

That caused a shudder to roll down his spine.

“Let’s elope.” Lotor muttered.

They both fell silent as a servant passed by, refilling glasses and collecting empty plates. Lance ordered another round of drinks and a tiny array of dishes for them to snack on, but the Galran prince was fixated on something else.

Elopement. Insane, he knew, but the moment he said it, he began to enjoy the weight of the decision: marriage, _immediately_.

“Yeah, sure,” Lance lifted his re filled glass, taking a long sip of his peach-flavored wine. “My mother will grow a second head.”

“I mean it, let’s get married, tonight.” Lotor laced his fingers with Lance’s under the table. The gesture seemed to catch Lance off-guard momentarily, and he stared at him with wide, blue-blue eyes. “Just you and me.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

Lance sucked his lower lip between his teeth, brows knitting. “Lotor, I . . . I want to, but I want my family to be there. I want my mother and father and Allura to be there. And, your mother and father too.”

“That’s the beauty of it. We don’t have to tell anyone. We’ll still have a formal wedding.” Lotor explained, laying out the plan as he spoke. “But this would be for you and me. Without people we don’t know and traditions we don’t care about—”

“—if that’s a slight on the color scheme then I don’t think this marriage will last.” Lance said, but he was smiling. Always a good sign. He set his drink aside. “But I do see your point. It’s not really going to be _ours,_ you know? It’ll be more of a _political thing_. Something for the people to watch and gawk at while we show that we have power and alliance.”

The Galra prince smiled.

“My parents got married without telling anyone.”

Lance’s eyes grew comically wide, laughter bubbling from between his lips. “Really? I didn’t know that! My father brings it up whenever I mention your mother or alchemy!” Lance’s fingers flex along the back of his hand. “He really wanted to be his best man.” His voice lowered considerably, but Lotor at once understood.

His frown must have betrayed him because Lance looked guilty. “And you want Allura to be there?”

Lance’s gaze shifted uneasily to the where his sister was dancing with one suitor after another, looking like he wanted nothing more than to throw himself into the throng of dancers too. And Lotor, for all he was, couldn’t find it in himself be mad.

They had always been a unit, Lance and Allura. Since the day he met them they had been inseparable. If Lance had a private lesson, Allura would sit patiently in a corner waiting for her brother. If Allura had a dress fitting, Lance would come along if only to give his opinion and demand a matching outfit.

They were not simply the _royal children,_ but cosmic anomalies, something to be feared and admired in equal measure.

Great things were expected of twins, and not just because of their rarity. Twins were mystical beings, only one set born every other millennia. They were people said to have psychic links with one another, powers similar to what druids trained years for, naturally. They were more in tune with the universe, with the quintessence, the power of all living things.

Although Lance had never confirmed these myths to him, it had made sense to Lotor that two powerful beings that had never been separated should never have to be, but then he had fallen in love, and he wanted Lance for himself.

It caused friction in the beginning, Allura and he had gotten into round after round of silent battles, but when it came down to it, Lance was his own person, and compromise was often assured.

And Lotor could accept that, he really could but he was not about to lose his private elopement because Allura could be there. Cosmic anomalies or not.

“Lance,” he said softly. “Remember this would be a ceremony about us, not our politics or families, us.”

Lance watched at him a furrow of worry appearing between his brows and Lotor pondered if Lance would truly choose his sister over him.

“You’re right.” He smiled that brilliant smile. “So how should be do this?”

.

.

**Lance**

The moon was a sliver in the velvet night sky.

After the guest had retired for the evening, Lotor and he had snuck out through the service entrance and into the city streets beyond the castle walls. It had been one of Lance’s conditions, since they already decided on an Altean wedding; he wanted them to marry in their old meeting spot at the Temple of Aiya. Lotor had agreed.

Although Lance could physically feel Allura behind his back as he put more distance between himself and the Castle, he felt lighter for it, leaning against Lotor for support, drunk off the cool night air. “Second thoughts?” Lotor asked once they rounded a corner into a short-cut alleyway.

“Never.”

They walked hand-and-hand through the city, disguised and without a care in the world. Young and in love and together. They were getting married! Forget tradition and government and appeasing the forces that be, they were young, in love, and ticks away from marriage! No one had ever been so blessed!

The Temple of Aiya was not the grandest, made so for the ancient Goddess of Humility, but it was beautiful in a subtle way, from the silvery exposed bricks to the stained glass windows depicting the creation of the cosmos, it had been a place very close to their hearts.

A single priestess managed the temple for the evening and agreed to do the ceremony for them. As she spoken ancient words that bound countless other couples, Lance was hit with a sudden elation that made him have to cover his mouth to stifle his giggle. When he looked over at Lotor, with his ridiculous disguise, he only felt a rush of warmth.

“Now the vows,” the priestess said in a heavy voice.

Lotor looked at him then. “Since the moment I met you I knew you would be the one for me.” Lance held back his urge to snort; they had hated each other when they met. No two princes in the galaxy had a rivalry that matched theirs. It had merely dissolved into a budding fondness, crush and then, eventually, love. “I could never say it enough for as long as I live, but I truly never wish to part from you for no matter how long we both shall live. It would be my greatest honor and privilege to join my life with yours.”

The priestess nodded to Lance, her white eyes gleaming like pearls in their sockets.

“Lo, I—shut up; you knew I would do this.” Lance felt choked up as the words left his mouth, his fiancé bit his smile against his cheek. “I never thought I would meet anyone like you. You are the perfect, my one perfect thing. I never want to be without you.” His hand wandered up, cupping Lotor’s cheek, guiding his forehead to his. “It would be my greatest honor to join my life with yours.”

“Then by the powers that be,” said the priestess, her heavenly voice like soft music in his ears. “I pronounce you wed.”

Lotor touched his cheek and in an instant, his disguise melted away, his blue skin becoming lavender under his hands and his ash colored hair falling over his shoulders in thick waves. Lance laughed, full-bellied and loud, tearing away his disguise as well. He threw his arms around Lotor’s shoulders and pulled him in.

Then they were kissing uncaring to who saw.

Luckily for them, all priestesses for the Goddess were blind. 

.

.

One terrible fact about getting married without telling anyone: Lotor had to return to his outpost the next day. He had taken a leave of absence to attend Allura’s coronation, but once the sun rose that morning, he was due back on base, effective three hours ago.

After Lance’s last futile attempt to lure him back into bed, he lay against the pillows, curling up in a pool of sunlight as he watched his husband— _his husband!_ His chest sang with the words _husband, husband, husband!—_ dress for his trip back to Bovar.

“I would have preferred to spend our wedding night in _my_ room.” Lance drawled, eyes roving over the ridged muscles and scars of his husband's bare back. Lotor lived a far more textured life than Lance had, his status as general launching him into warzones and battles that Lance had to peacefully sit out because he was too young, or too valuable.

It used to make him jealous. Now it only made him worry.

“Instead I have to sneak out like some poor flower you lured back to your bed.” He drones on, rolling over in the bed.

Lotor chuckled at that. “Soon you won’t have to.” He pulled the skin-tight shirt over his head and Lance gave a dissatisfied whine that the show was half-over. Eyebrow rising, Lotor swooped down to lean down over the bed, caging Lance between the pillows. His laughter turned to a low moan as Lotor dragged his mouth down the column of his throat.

“Soon you can walk around our house, not caring who knows we slept together.” He whispered hotly into the shell of Lance’s ear, lips grazing the row of piercings. He shivered. “We’ll be in our own little world, just the two of us. We just have a wait a little longer.”

Lance hummed, but the uneasy feeling was coming over him again, making the room misty at the corners. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to push and claw those bad thoughts out of the corners of his mind and enjoy the time he had, but it was useless.

It was a heaviness that always sat on his chest, and when he woke this morning it had been in a panic with that invisible demon clawing at his bone-cage, swiping at him with its infectious claws.

He tried to bite his lips together, to choke off his gasp of pain, but his body betrayed him. The sob that had been working in his throat slipped out, and Lotor leaned up to stare down at him with a startled expression. Lotor’s hands stilled on his body and reached up to cup his face. “Lance,” Lotor whispered so softly that Lance felt terrible for crying.

He had ruined their moment. Their last moments together newly married.

Lance shook his head, wiping away his tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“No, no,” Lotor’s hand closed around his wrist. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” Lance repeated, then sniffled. “It’s just, I love you . . . so much.”

“Oh, Lance,” Lotor ran his thumb over his cheek, pressing gently against his eye scale. “I love you too.” He said softly, kissing Lance again, but even that felt too fleeting.

Lance had hoped that when they were married, when they had taken their vows that this terrible, lingering feeling would finally _go away._

But no, he still felt like if he let go of Lotor now, then he would never see him again. Like any moment could possibly be their last. If Lotor walked out that door _now_ he would be sucked into the vacuum of space and long lost to him forever.

He felt _childish._ Superstitious. Annoying. Any wrangle of things he felt when this terrible anxiety plagued him, but Lotor knew him. Lotor _indulged_ his crazy, so . . .

His arms tightened, reflexively around his husband, but he knew he would have to let go soon. He never be such a spoiled child and beg his husband to stay because he was feeling anxious. Lotor had to leave and Lance would have to let him. Just—not yet.

“Please come back to me.” Lance whispered, suddenly too scared to look at his husband’s handsome face. “No matter what happens, please. Come to me.”

“I will.” Lotor murmured and climbed back into the bed with him, kissing each tear that rolled over his cheeks. Lance felt a guilty pleasure in getting Lotor to stay, if just for a little bit longer, but the unease, he knew, would not settled in his chest until he saw Lotor again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry about the lack of updates! I'm in college, isn't everyone tho? Literally. We're all sitting here in these expensive crucibles of learning and while I wasn't working on this storyline, I was conjugating German verbs. But srsly, I'll try to be better at this. 
> 
> Pls keep reviewing they really do keep me going! Tell me what you think! What you expect! What did I do that makes you keep coming back?


	4. search for blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PRESENT. the search for the lions, merpeople, and pidge commentary

**Allura**

“Princess?” Shiro was standing behind her, eyes intent.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to make sure that you were alright.” Allura blinked. “You’ve been . . . quiet. And I understand that we don’t know you well, and you don’t know us well, but I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” Allura said, but the words tasted hollow. That nothingness sunk into her bones and twisted her insides. She winced at the sound of her own voice sometimes still, the raspy whisper from lack of use. “Really,” She pressed but she could already see that Shiro was not convinced.

“Princess, if you don’t feel up to the mission, we can wait.”

Even as he said it, they both knew that wasn’t an option. Allura shook her head.

“No I really,” Allura exhaled heavily, shoulders falling. “The Blue Lion is . . . _was,_ I suppose.” Her blue-violet eyes flickered to Shiro, testing his expression before, “My brother was the Blue Paladin of Voltron.”

Shiro stared at her a moment, betraying nothing of his inner thoughts. “Prince Lance?”

Allura had not exactly kept Lance a secret, and she was sure Coran had filled the paladins in on the war while she slept. It still felt strange to talk about him, acknowledge his existence to someone other than Coran. Good almost.

“. . . yes.”

“I see.” She felt a weighty silence fall over them, but just as she was about to excuse herself, Shiro spoke again. “And the lion, do you think it’ll recognize you?”

“I thought . . . since we’re twins that the Blue lion may accept me in his place.” Absently, she touched her chest where her necklace usually hung, but remembered she had given it to Coran too late. She was so used to toying with it when she didn’t know what to do with her hands. Her fingers curled into a fist on her collar. “It’s silly, it doesn’t work that way at all, but . . .”

Shiro shook his head. “No, I think it’s worth a shot.”

Allura nodded to herself. “I am confident Blue will remember me. She adored Lance.” It was a bittersweet moment when Lance had been named the next paladin of Voltron. They had just lost Blaytz a week prior, but the moment Lance had entered the hangar had set off a chain-reaction inside of Blue, as she claimed him for her own.

“And Allura, I think he’d be proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

**Pidge**

The search for the Blue Lion had not gone _exactly_ as planned.

That was: trying to convince a band of renegade merpeople— _merpeople_ in space, Pidge is living—that they were the new paladins of Voltron and _no,_ they were not being controlled by the forest, what are you talking about?

Once they had gotten away from _those_ weirdos, it had been a matter of tracking the lions through the water.

As she treads through the water after Keith and Allura, the voices of the others were tinny and bubbly on the radio from where they were safe back at the castle. Allura spoke loudly enough for all of them to hear, after showing that she could grow _gills_ and protective _film over her eyes._ If Pidge wasn’t so annoyed by this endeavor, she would be in love.

She didn’t like open water, deep pools where she couldn’t see the bottom or otherwise. It’s what made living in Texas, outlining the desert community of the Garrison, her ideal climate.

Just being down here, even with the underwater apparatus and different aquatic life, made her uneasy; she just wanted to get to the lion and then to the surface as quick as possible.

When they finally came across the Blue lion, she had almost forgotten about the size difference between hers and Hunk’s. Blue made up the leg of Voltron, it was also said to have deep powers in correlation with its element—i.e., no surprise, water—but too Pidge’s great surprise, Blue did not seem to recognize its paladin as she stood before them.

“C’mon,” the princess muttered, resting her hand against the smooth barrier surrounding it. “Please, Blue you know me, please.”

Pidge thought absently back to her first meeting with her lion. Green had opened up to her the moment she had stepped into the ring of forest that had grown around it. Yellow had given Hunk entry the moment pressed his hand against the paneled barrier.

But Blue was as quiet as stone.

“I understand that I’m not your first choice in paladin, I’m not Lance,” Allura said voice picking up strength. Pidge momentarily pondered the name, wondering where she had heard it before. Admittedly, she had been eavesdropping on Allura and Coran’s private conversations because despite everything else, she did not _trust_ them. Not like everyone else.

But to her great surprise, and Hunk’s when she told him, the princess and her advisor’s conversations vastly consisted of talking about the last ten thousand years of slumber. Together, the two of them would read through reports about the attacks that had happened, the battles they missed, the people that died. Lance was a common topic of conversation between the two of them.

He was the princess’s twin brother and they had been separated by the war, Pidge could relate.

When she looked up, Allura had her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I don’t understand,” Allura murmured. “For some reason,” Allura looked up at the robot sitting in her barrier, undisturbed. “She won’t react to me.”

“She?” Hunk asked, his voice coming out tinny and bubbled from the head-gear. “Do the lions have set genders?”

“I think it’s more of a ship thing. All ships are referred to as female.” Pidge answered, turning her attention away from the display. For some reason, she knew Allura didn’t want to be seen like this Although Shiro was their leader; Allura was their guide into the strange and unusual about space.

And hopefully, her ticket to find her dad and Matt.

“Why is that?” Hunk asked, voice crackling softly in her ear.

“I dunno, why is that Keith?” Pidge asked, dragging an unsuspecting Keith into the conversation. The red paladin looked startled for a moment, staring at them with moon eyes before leveling his stare.

“I don’t know, why’re you asking me?”

Pidge shrugged. “I don’t know. You were the top pilot at the Garrison. Why don’t you tell us about the history of ships and their female pronouns?”

Keith’s eyes squinted at her a moment, the way they did sometime when she asked a question or her voice pitched to high. “Is that a trick question?”

“Uhm,” Pidge sunk her teeth into her lip, mind racing for an explanation when a sharp scream caught their attention.

The merpeople again. This time with weapons.

“Do they speak English?” Pidge whispered, about a hundred different shark movies playing over in the back of her head. Keith made a disgruntled noise. _Oh quiznak._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for the delay. A year. A full year. Really? Wow, sorry. I am continuing to write this fic.
> 
> I am really warmed by all the beautiful reviews I received over the past year, and I really want to make it up to people by finishing this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, I have a tentative outline, and six-ish days before I enter college officially, so drop me a line and I'll make chapter two happen. :D  
> Also, feel free to point out any spelling or grammatical errors, my beta is on strike because she doesn't watch Voltron and won't do it. 
> 
> I have so many ideas for this fic, I just want to see it all come together.


End file.
